Wrath and Ruin
by fangirlMasquerade
Summary: AU! During the War of the Last Alliance, many lives were lost. Legolas had already lost his grandfather, and when dragonfire spread afar on the battlefield, he may well lose his father to this war. Elrond will do all he can to save Thranduil from the devastating wounds, but can he succeed in saving the Sinda's life before Ilúvatar calls another to the Halls of Mandos?
1. Wrath

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or any characters associated with them; They belong to their rightful owner J.R.R. Tolkien. We just borrow them to play. *winks*  
My Elvish sucks. Tolkien forgive me. *sobs*

A/N: AU Alert! This story is in no way meant to be canon. I do not know for fact and/or believe Thranduil received his scar (As only shown in the second Hobbit movie) during the Last Alliance. Also, there is no actual canon birthdate for Legolas. So in this, he is meant to be within his first hundred years, far from his majority. I personally don't think he was present or even born during the Last Alliance, but that's what alternate universes are for. ;) So please keep all of this in mind while reading this story. It is _NOT_ meant to be canon. Just angst ridden. ;)

I'd like to say that I have no idea if anyone wrote about Thranduil's wound shown in the second Hobbit movie. I'm too lazy to search for it. This idea popped up while writing a scene for another story and I ran with it. :) And, this was meant to be a one shot, but it up and got itself chapters. So there will be three chapters, two full ones and one short epilogue. Hopefully y'all enjoy! So without further ado! 

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**Wrath**

Before the first blazes of dragonfire spread across the battlefield, there was just a moment of silence; a moment of awe at the sight of the great serpent's appearance that took hold of man and elf alike. Even the enemy they fought could not stop themselves from staring at the dragon their Master had summoned.

And then dragonfire burned into the earth, and the screams of man, elf, and orc alike erupted and filled the air of the battlefield. The scorching fire scarred the earth beyond repair, and the wings of the dragon roared overhead like thunder as it flew from one end of the battlefield to the other. It was deafening, devastating, and death.

The camps that were set up for the men and elves that fought against Sauron's armies were far off from the battlefield itself, safe from the dragon's wrathful fire. It was at one of these camps the wounded from the dragonfire were being brought to, and the stench of burnt hair and flesh and death was thick in the air around it.

Gil-galad was one of the few to get out almost entirely unscathed by the dragonfire. He rode his mount hard to get back to camp, where Elrond was doing all he could for those injured. "Elrond! _Boe enni nestron!_ " He called, pulling on the reins to force his stallion to an abrupt stop near the tent Elrond was working in to save others.

The raven haired half-elf rushed out at the sound of Gil-galad's call, and the sight he was greeted with was of the other elf climbing down from his mount and pulling with him an unconscious elf. " _Nan Belain!_ Thranduil! What has happened to him?" He asked, already moving to help Gil-galad carry the unconscious Sinda into the tent.

"The dragonfire splashed onto Thranduil as the beast flew by overhead us. It all burned the left half of his body before I could pull him back. Elrond, it got on his face." Gil-galad and Elrond quickly laid Thranduil down on a bed and it was then Elrond could first see the true damage wrought by the dragonfire. With Thranduil's long white golden hair falling away from his face, neither elf could hold back the cringe of pain at the damage now fully visible to them.

Thranduil's head was turned to the side, facing the right and revealing the damaged left half of his once flawless face. The skin had all but melted off of his left cheek. "I do not know if I can save him from death. It is bad." Elrond said, taking a knife and cutting away the unconscious elf's clothing after Gil-galad removed his damaged armor.

"I must get back to the battlefield, that fell creature still flies overhead of our men. We must bring it down somehow." Gil-galad looked at Elrond, and the half-elf nodded his understanding, not even looking up from what he was doing. He would have to work fervently to save the elf's life if there was a chance in doing so.

Gil-galad could do no more here, he was needed on the battlefield, and they both knew and understood it. He could only help by slaying the dragon before it could claim more lives.

Turning to leave the tent to get a fresh mount before he returned, Gil-galad stopped when Elrond called to him. " _Dartho!_ Find Glorfindel, I will need his help to restrain Thranduil if and when he awakens! I fear the pain he will be in will drive him mad. And find Legolas! He needs to be here if his father passes. He has already lost his grandfather to this accursed evil."

Nodding, Gil-galad turned and left Elrond to his work, sending a silent prayer to the Valar to spare Thranduil's life, if nothing more than for the young elf's sake. Legolas did not need to know the pain of losing his whole family to this accursed evil. He was still one of the youngest elves in this battle for Middle-earth.

Gil-galad had not failed Elrond in his request, for the first person he found was Glorfindel. He sent his lieutenant back to the camp with strict orders to do everything Elrond needed of him while he himself sought out Legolas and simultaneously searched and thought of how they would defeat the dragon and saving any he could.

Glorfindel's mount Asfaloth knew of his urgency and the stallion carried the golden haired elf back to the camp in record time still.

Just as Glorfindel dismounted in the camp after arriving, the loud scream of Thranduil erupted from the tent Elrond and Thranduil occupied. It pierced through the camp, sending elf and man alike looking wildly toward the healer's tent. No one could not ignore how the sound of the Sinda's piercing cry was horrendous in their ears. Even the horses neighed in their dismay at the Eldar's painful cry.

For Glorfindel it was heart wrenching and he stood almost frozen in place. Fear gripped his chest; even though he had been warned by Gil-galad it would be bad, to hear _Thranduil_ of all elves give sounds such as that scream... He shuddered at the thought of how truly bad it was. Another scream resonated in his ears like the loud clap of thunder and sent a wave of nausea through him at the unbearable sound.

" _Boe enni dulu!_ " Elrond's following call for aid finally brought Glorfindel out of his bewilderment. He quickly snapped to attention, and the golden haired elven lieutenant rushed into the tent. He had seen many things in his life, but he was not prepared for the sight that he beheld this moment.

Thranduil lay on a bed with Elrond trying to keep him still. He was having little luck, as Thranduil thrashed and writhed on the bed, delirious with pain. Elrond could not stop from pressing on one of the wounds on his left side and another pained scream ripped through the elf's mouth, momentarily paralyzing him in agonizing pain.

Seeing movement in the entrance of the tent, Elrond looked up with fierce grey eyes. "Glorfindel! Help me keep him still! I must clean his wounds and cut away the dead flesh before it can cause infection and he has just woken!"

Glorfindel steeled his nerves and rushed to Elrond's aid. He quickly took note of how bad Thranduil's injuries truly were. The elf's entire left side was burned, but from experience he knew that if they could cut the dead flesh and prevent infection he would survive such injuries, and with elven healing abilities they would not even scar.

It was the wound to the left half of his face that made him think there may be little chance in saving the Sinda's life. _How in Arda will we save him from this wound?_ Shaking his head and ridding himself of these doubts, he quickly moved to Thranduil's feet, pressing his weight on both legs using his forearms and grasping what he could without harming him.

Elrond was then able to move to his head and and pin his shoulders down. The elf was thrashing so wildly the healer's hand jerked and pressed against one of the open lesions on Thranduil's left shoulder. He knew that pressing on his injured shoulder would cause another cry of pain, but still the sound itself sent a jolt through his system he was not prepared for.

"Thranduil! Listen to my voice! You must calm yourself if I have any hope in saving you!" Elrond spoke, his tone hard and clearly heard outside of the tent as he raised his voice in the hopes Thranduil would grasp onto his words. Looking at Glorfindel, Elrond shook his head. "Go prepare a sleeping draught! I cannot help him when he is maddened with pain like this!"

" _BAW!_ " Thranduil suddenly wailed, a moment of clarity in his pain ridden mind allowing him to hear Elrond's words. "No sleeping draught, I will not wake from it! _Iesten mellon_ do not give me that! I will not wake back up! _I will die_!" Thranduil's voice was desperate and it tore at Elrond and Glorfindel's hearts to hear the proud Sinda all but beg them.

"Then you must lie still. I cannot save your life if you continue to thrash like you are. I know it is painful, but if you do not want a sleeping draught you must lie still so that I may do what I can to help you." Elrond said, stroking his fingers through Thranduil's hair, a frown creasing his hard features as he looked down at the other elf.

Thranduil, through sheer willpower alone forced his body to lay as still as he could possibly manage. He knew despite the pain he would never again wake up if he drank a sleeping draught. But the pain was so fierce, even as he struggled to lay still, his body convulsed with spasms wracking him with pain. He could not lay motionless when his body was suffering spasms of agonizing pain.

With each spasm it felt as if his skin was being ripped off of his muscles and he could not suppress the convulsion that accompanied each one. And that just proved to add to his mounting pain. He wanted so desperately to go back into oblivion where he felt nothing, but he feared he would not wake and forced his mind to stay conscious through it.

Elrond could see Thranduil was using up his strength in trying to lay still so that the half-elf healer could work, so he would not waste time in arguing. He moved quickly, knowing that he could tend to the lesser wounds faster before he had to work on the damage on Thranduil's face. It would take a great deal of patience on that wound, and Elrond silently prayed to the Valar that the white golden haired Sinda would long pass out before he reached it.

"Glorfindel, help me roll him to his right side." He looked at his friend and the elven lieutenant nodded, moving to try and shift Thranduil's weight to his right. With Elrond by his chest and Glorfindel at his legs, the two elves carefully but quickly lifted Thranduil until he was lying on his right side.

The movement forced another cry of pain to filter out of the tent, Thranduil's chest heaving as pain coursed through what felt like every inch of his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, oblivious to the tears streaking the right half of his face and soaking into his sweat and blood soaked hair.

It broke both of Elrond and Glorfindel's hearts to hear the pained cries coming from Thranduil, but they worked diligently nonetheless to save his life. Glorfindel was not the healer that Elrond was, but he had helped the half-elf plenty of times and knew the basics of healing. He ran back and forth in the tent, grabbing water bowls, clean cloths, athelas and aloe vera leaves, and everything else Elrond requested.

Elrond began with the elf's left foot. His entire left side was burned, and Elrond worked to cut away the charred, dead skin while Glorfindel worked to both hold Thranduil's leg still and wipe clean the fluids that poured from the wounds. When Elrond would move up along Thranduil's leg, working with deft movements, Glorfindel wrapped the wounds with clean white cloths to protect the exposed lesions.

All the while, with each new cut, a wave of pain washed through Thranduil and his body spasmed, and despite his attempts to hold his tongue a pained cry escaped him each time his body did so. Still he refused to let his mind slip into blissful unconsciousness.

"Glorfindel, prepare some aloe vera juice and place it on the wounds that were not charred, it may ease him." _Though I doubt it will ease him enough._ Elrond silently thought, glancing quickly at his friend. The golden haired elf shared his look, and shared his thoughts. But he nodded and went to work, cutting the leaves and getting the juices from within.

Glorfindel did as he was asked and began spreading the soothing juices of the aloe vera leaves along exposed burns, trying his best to be gentle but there was truly no way of doing so with extensive burns like the ones Thranduil had received.

As Elrond worked his way to the more severe wounds up Thranduil's body as quickly and efficiently as he could manage, Thranduil's convulsions of pain became more pronounced, jerking his body hard and away from Elrond's hands. Even the aloe vera juice Glorfindel had quickly applied did not seem to help.

Elrond was a natural healer with deft hands, but even he could not work fast enough. He could not let his worry for the elf's pain interfere with his work in cleaning the wounds. As he began to clean the area around Thranduil's midsection where larger, more severe burn wounds began to appear, a strangled, pained scream tore from the elf as tender flesh was cut and cleaned.

" _Ada!_ " Legolas had just arrived after receiving word from Gil-galad of his father's injuries when his ears rang with the sound of his father's scream. His heart seized at the sound, his blue-grey eyes wide with sudden fright. His mount Elbehad did not even come to a stop before he leapt from the stallion's back and rushed toward the tent.

" _Daro hon!_ Do not let Legolas see this!" Elrond quickly said, looking sharply up to Glorfindel. Before he had even managed to finish his sentence Glorfindel was moving to intercept Legolas before the young elven warrior could see the damage that had been done to his father by the dragon's fire.

Legolas' keen eyes seen the convulsing body of his father in front of Elrond, but with his father's back to him he could not see his face or what other damage there was. He seen the open, charred and seeping lesions along the left side of his torso and his wrapped left leg but everything else was a blur when Glorfindel then wrapped his arms around the younger elf and forcefully pushed him from the tent.

" _Dartho!_ Do not come in here Legolas! You do not want to see your father like this, it will be too much for you to bear the sight of him!" Glorfindel said, pushing the younger elf from the tent completely.

Legolas struggled, pushing back with all his strength to free himself of Glorfindel's grasp to reach his father. "Release me! Let me go! I must see him!" He said quickly, but Glorfindel was stronger and he could not free himself of the older elf's grasp. His entire body froze when the sudden piercing cry of his father struck him like an arrow to the chest.

Legolas looked over Glorfindel's shoulder at the tent where his father lay dying. Tears sprang to his eyes and he clung to Glorfindel with all his strength. "He is dying." His voice cracked at the very words and his heart lurched. Suddenly the strength in his legs gave out, but Glorfindel held Legolas fast, holding him up.

"Elrond is doing all he can to save your father. You must have faith, _mellon nín._ " It was hard for the older elf to say that when another agonized scream pierced through the camp from behind him.

"Glorfindel! I need you!" Elrond called from the tent. Thranduil's thrashing had intensified as his body continued to suffer spasms and convulsions of pain and Elrond needed his friend to hold the other elf down so that he could save him.

Again Legolas tried to free himself of Glorfindel's grasp, finding strength in his legs at Elrond's call. "I can help, _iesten_ let me go and see to my father!" He begged, looking into the sharp eyes of Glorfindel.

Shaking his head, the older elf gripped Legolas' shoulders firmly. "No, _mellon nín_ , I cannot in good faith let you in that tent and see your father. Stay out here. We will do all we can for Thranduil, but you must not enter that tent now. Look at me!" He gripped Legolas' chin and forced his gaze to meet his own. "Promise me Legolas, you will not come inside unless beckoned."

To the younger elf it was already too much to bear. And deep down he knew if he saw anymore of his father's injuries he would be of no help to them, stricken with sorrow and paralyzed with fear of losing his father. Still he hesitated when Thranduil screamed in agony just a few feet from him.

"Glorfindel!" Elrond shouted, unable to hold Thranduil down himself and mend his wounds at the same time.

Steeling himself, Legolas looked at Glorfindel and nodded. "I will wait out here. _Iesten_ , Glorfindel, save my father. I cannot lose him." His eyes were misty with unshed tears but he saw clearly the determined look he received from Glorfindel's own eyes. With a nod, the older elf squeezed Legolas' shoulders a moment then turned and disappeared back into the tent where he was needed.

Legolas stood rooted to his spot, staring at the tent's flapping entrance. He caught glimpses of Elrond and Glorfindel standing inside over the bed where his father lay on his right side. He tore his eyes away at the sight of his father's wounds, open and seeping. He sent up a prayer to the Valar and to Eru Ilúvatar himself to spare his father's life.

Thranduil was all Legolas had in the world. He knew beyond a doubt that the grief of losing him now would be too much for the young elf. The old stories of elves dying of broken hearts and grief seemed all too real to Legolas now.

Elrond had barely been able to do anything without Glorfindel to help, Thranduil's writhing keeping him from cleaning the wounds cleanly and without causing anymore harm. He glanced to Glorfindel as the blonde elf reappeared beside him, a stony mask not showing the inner turmoil he was suffering placed on his fair face.

The raven haired elf sympathized with how his friend felt for the situation. But they both had to work through the sorrow their hearts were feeling to save Thranduil.

The burned elf lay on his right side still, and each touch to his left ribcage sent new waves of excruciating pain shooting through his body. As Elrond worked to clean the open lesions and Glorfindel wrapped what he could and held the white golden haired Sinda down, Thranduil cried out from agony. " _Daro! Daro! Baw! Iesten!_ " He shouted, attempting to throw himself onto his back just to get away from Elrond.

"I must! You will die of infection if I cannot clean these wounds! _Iesten, mellon nín_ , let me make a sleeping draught for you. It will ease you." Elrond said, looking at Thranduil and pressing his hand to an uninjured portion of his forehead.

"I will not wake back up, Elrond..." He said, staring blindly at the tent wall in front of him. He realized with dismay for the first time since waking up that he could not see out of his left eye. Another moment of painful clarity, but he pushed that to the back of his mind. He distinctly remembered his son's voice calling him. "Legolas..."

"He is outside, he is fine." Glorfindel said, trying to ease Thranduil's heart a little. He knew the elf cared for his son and if he was concerned for Legolas he would not be able to focus on his own situation, as dire as it was. Thranduil needed all his energy focused on himself, to keep himself alive.

"Do not let him see me like this." Thranduil suddenly said, jerking his head to look at Elrond and Glorfindel. The searing pain made his eyes roll back and he cried out, convulsing in pain at the movement.

"Do not move Thranduil!" Elrond raised his voice, holding the elf's head still. He inwardly winced at how a portion of Thranduil's skin along his left cheek seemed to rip apart at the sudden movement. "He will not see you until you are ready. Now please lie still, I am almost done." Elrond said, this time his voice softened just a bit.

" _Ion nín_..." It was obvious Thranduil's mind was wandering again, and Elrond took this time to do what he could to clean the wounds around his ribcage. Another pained scream tore from Thranduil.

As painful as it was, Elrond knew his face would be the worst. And what worse, Elrond did not think he would be able to save any of the skin. Too much had already been melted away by the dragonfire. While elves did not scar from wounds given by mortal means, magical means of injuries was another story.

Both Elrond and Glorfindel knew well that the horribly disfiguring wound to his face was too terrible, and having been brought on by dragonfire would mean permanent scarring. A scar for an elf was a painful thing to bear, but the damage to Thranduil's face and his no doubt lost eyesight in his left eye would devastate the proud Sinda.

If his wounds did not kill him, his grief may well yet do so.

As Legolas stood outside the tent, his heart seized each time he heard his father's agonizing cries. He finally had to sit down and clasp his hands firmly to hold himself together. He probably had never prayed so hard in his life as he did now. His shoulders shook with emotions that he continued to keep bottled up. He had not yet wept, but his eyes stung with the unshed tears.

He rocked back and forth, ignoring everyone and everything around him. The dragon could well land right in front of him and he would not have known, the world outside his father's screams having been swept away. _Iesten do not take him from me, Eru. I cannot lose my father._

He closed his eyes to stop himself from crying. _Iesten, Ada, do not leave me alone. You must survive this._

All his young life, Legolas had seen the proudness and strength of his Sindar heritage. But this war, the evil that Sauron wrought had taken so much from him. His mother, his grandfather... If this evil claimed his father, the only family he had left in all of Arda, his heart would surely be filled with so much sorrow he would either lose himself in that grief and be forever changed, or die of his grief and his line gone forever.

The very thought of Sauron ending the Sindar line of Oropher was an infuriating one and Legolas' hands clasped tighter together, his knuckles whitening from the strain.

When Elrond was finally done with all he could do on Thranduil's wounds up to his neck, he took a deep breath and looked at the damage done to his face. He had been working tirelessly since Gil-galad had brought Thranduil back from the battlefield to stop any infection and save his life, he had not yet been able to truly look over the damage done to the Sinda's face.

He still could not stop the cringe at the sight of the disfiguring wound. Thranduil was physically and emotionally drained, yet his body continued to have spasms of pure agony. It was draining him, and fast.

And still, Thranduil was conscious, though barely. His willpower was strong. He refused to lose himself in oblivion, his heart telling him if he was to go unconscious he would never again wake to see his son. That thought alone drove him to fight the darkness that was trying to swallow him each time a wave of pain washed through his body.

"Glorfindel, hold his head steady." Elrond instructed, glancing at his friend with a nod.

The blonde elf stood at the head of the bed, gently but firmly holding Thranduil's head down. The hiss of pain and jerk of his body testified to them that he still had great pain from the lesions around his face. The elven lieutenant gently brushed aside the burnt strands of white gold hair around the wounds while whispering words of soothing comfort.

The whole while Elrond closely looked over the wound. So much of the skin was gone. He would heal slowly from this, and struggle even after healing to become accustomed to it. Turning, he again washed his hands in a bowl before he placed everything he would need within arm's reach.

He then leaned down to Thranduil's ear. "You must remain still. There is no room for err. I will do what I can for you, but you must lie still for this." Elrond said, stroking the Sinda's white golden hair.

Thranduil braced himself for what was to come, realizing that as much as everything else had hurt so much in the past hours -though he had no real way of knowing how much time had passed, an Age could have passed and he wouldn't have been able to tell in his delirium of pain- he knew his face was worse.

Knowing what he had been through on the lesser wounds, he knew what was to come next no doubt would be worse off tenfold. "Do what you must, _mellon nín_..." He said through gritted teeth. Tears soaked into the bed from where his head lay and his chest heaved while he tried to keep himself calm, but he was so exhausted and his nerves were frayed.

Elrond exchanged a glance with Glorfindel. They both nodded to one another, knowing what must be done in order to save the woodland elf's life. With this knowledge, Elrond began cleaning the damaged area of Thranduil's face.

The ensuing screams that followed were indeed worse by tenfold.

Unable to handle the sounds his father was making, Legolas pressed his hands to his sensitive ears and rocked himself more forcefully, his unshed tears finally running down his cheeks. It was taking every bit of his strength and will to not go running to his father's side and instead stay put where he sat outside the tent.

Elbehad had wandered over to his master and was a constant presence, the animal doing all he could for his weeping master. The stallion could well tell what was happening, and shared in Legolas' grief.

Thranduil struggled with renewed ferocity but Glorfindel kept his head still and steady while Elrond did what he could for the elf's face. In truth, there was little he _could_ do. Most of the flesh had been melted away by the dragonfire, and what remained was left in ruin. He did all he could to mend the woodland elf's face, but with so much damage, he found himself focusing solely on trying to prevent infection instead of trying to save any skin.

At this point, it would make little difference.

With each cut of dead, charred skin, Thranduil's begging screams to stop tore at Elrond and Glorfindel's hearts, ripped pieces of the others' hearts around the camp, and utterly shattered Legolas' own weary heart. A few elves, even a couple of men tried to console the young elf, but nothing they did seemed to register to him, and nothing they said seemed to reach his ears.

All he heard was his father's screams of excruciating agony.

TBC

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A/N: There you have it, the first chapter of Wrath and Ruin. Hopefully I captured the angst I was aiming for, because the images were clear in my head. X3 Now, will Thranduil survive his injuries and the grief that comes with such a wound? Guess you'll have to find out in the next chapter! Reviews are, of course, appreciated and motivating.  
 _Namárië_ for now!

 **If my Sindarin is wrong, do not be rude about it. Please either politely correct me, or kindly tell me what does not exist and I will replace it with English/edit the scene. Thanks**

• _Boe enni nestron!:_ "I need a healer!"

• _Nan Belain!:_ "By the Valar!"

• _Dartho:_ "Wait"

• _Boe enni dulu!:_ "I need help!"

• _Baw!:_ "No/Don't!"

• _Iesten:_ "Please"

• _Mellon:_ "Friend"

• _Ada:_ "Dad/Daddy"

• _Daro hon!:_ "Halt/Stop him!"

• _Mellon nín:_ "My friend"

• _Daro!:_ "Halt/Stop!"

• _Ion nín:_ "My son"

• _Namárië:_ "Farewell" (Quenya)


	2. Ruin

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or any characters associated with them; They belong to their rightful owner J.R.R. Tolkien. We just borrow them to play.  
My Elvish sucks. Tolkien forgive me. *sobs*

A/N: Finally getting around to posting the second chapter to this. :) Sorry it took so long, but hopefully it will be worth the wait! Don't forget there will be a small epilogue after this. I'll more than likely post that next week with a new update for Beating the Elements.

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 **Ruin**

Elrond sighed wearily as he finally sat his knife down and looked at the shuddering elf that lay in ruin on the bed before him. He nodded to Glorfindel to finally release his hold on his head, while he gently lay a cloth across Thranduil's cheek to protect the exposed area. He then moved to stand in front of Thranduil's face and knelt down to look him in the eye. It was clear the elf had lost all his sight in his left eye, the once deep, blue-grey depths nothing more than a white haze that saw nothing.

The raven haired elf could not be sure if it was a blessing he still had the eye or not, because it was useless. He laid a part of the cloth over the ruined eye and he shook the thought from himself when he noticed Thranduil's good eye blearily looking at him. He could not quite tell if the Sinda was looking at him or not. "Thranduil..." He whispered, reaching out and running his long fingers through the other elf's white golden hair.

"Tell me you are done... I cannot withstand a moment more..." It hurt for Thranduil to speak. Between his screaming which left his throat raw and the open wound on his face, it simply hurt him to utter a single word. His mind was looking for anything to grasp ahold so that he did not have to focus on the pain, but trying to learn of his condition forced him to speak and thus the pain was simply never ending.

"Shh, do not speak." Elrond knew it would be painful for him so he would lay everything bare for Thranduil. He was never one to hold back information concerning his patients, finding it better for everyone if he told them the truth to their faces. He would not change in his ways now.

Looking at Glorfindel, the half-elf healer nodded. " _Mellon nín_ , get him some water." He asked, turning his grey eyes back on Thranduil. He still stroked Thranduil's hair in an attempt to comfort him.

Glorfindel did as he was told, quickly getting a cup and filling it with water. He then handed the cup back to Elrond, before he reached for a chair and sat it down. Elrond took both the cup and the chair gratefully, and he sat down heavily while leaning over to help Thranduil drink, holding the cup to his lips.

Thankfully, the elf lay on his right side, and his right cheek had not been injured, so the fluids were mostly swallowed as Elrond slowly helped him sip the water. He had to be slow, and the cringes and winces of pain from Thranduil as the water seeped out of the open wound on his face were heartbreaking for both elves present to witness it.

The water was appreciated, but the pain that came with it was just another thing Thranduil added to his already long list of painful things to try and push from his mind. It was not working. He looked to Elrond, silently begging him to get his mind off it by speaking. Although the Sinda had a sinking feeling anything Elrond said would not be good news outside of the fact he was still currently alive.

And Thranduil knew that death could still claim him, but he fiercely pushed that dark thought from him before it had time to truly sink in.

Setting the cup aside, Elrond then looked at Thranduil with an unreadable expression. Glorfindel stood beside him, and he had to work hard not to show the dismay and sorrow that he felt for the white golden haired elf. Thranduil could barely make out Glorfindel's presence, so he focused his eye on Elrond whom sat in front of him. "How bad..."

Shaking his head, Elrond continued to stroke his hair gently, like a father trying to soothe a child. "Do not speak. It will only cause to serve more pain. I have done all I can at this time, Thranduil. I will have to clean your wounds again soon, and rewrap them to make sure infection does not set in. I will have to do this many times until they have mended. It will be painful, but you have survived the worst of it, I believe."

If there was anything positive to say on the situation, that was it. Though Elrond could not begin to speak on how amazed he was that Thranduil remained conscious through the whole procedure.

A frown creased his features, as Elrond then had to tell Thranduil the true extent of the damage. " _Goheno nin, mellon_. There is nothing I can do for your eye. Your left eye has been ruined by the dragonfire, it will never regain sight." He paused, and he felt his heart go out to the Sinda for what he had to say next.

"Thranduil, though I believe most of the wounds you sustained over the left side of your body will mend if you can survive that long, the damage done to your face is permanent. No Elvish healing can mend that wound. No magic can recover the skin lost. Dragonfire is magic as we are, and it prevents us from recovering from severe wounds. Yours is such the case. I am truly sorry. I did all I could."

Though Elrond looked composed, the healer in him was frustrated beyond belief. He was angry at himself for his failure to mend Thranduil's disfiguring injuries.

Glorfindel could not look at Thranduil's face, not because of injury, for the cloth covered it from sight, but for the deep sorrow and agony he saw there. He reached out and gripped Elrond's shoulder, knowing that Elrond was blaming himself for Thranduil's new pain and sorrow.

Elrond was truly thankful for his friend's comforting presence. He waited a moment for Thranduil to absorb this information, watching the play of emotions flash across the elf's face. Horror, sorrow, pain, anger, so many emotions were swirling in the Eldar that lay in front of him.

Finally there was simply the expression of someone whom was trying to hide a pain from others. It could be described as an expression of a dull ache. " _Le hannon_..." Thranduil said, not even sure himself of what else he could possibly say at this moment. The news was still too new, the sorrow was still too close to the surface to trust in words concerning it's source.

Nodding, Elrond stayed a moment longer, resting his hand on Thranduil's head before he pulled back. "Shall I get Legolas for you?" He asked. He was unsure of whether or not Thranduil would want his son seeing him in such a state, but he also knew that both of them were well aware Thranduil still may not survive the injuries sustained from the dragon's devastating fire.

The elf himself did not know if he wanted to see Legolas. But he did not want his son to be left to sit in his fearful thoughts and worry over his father. After a moment, Thranduil was about to nod but stopped himself and simply said "yes" as softly as he could manage. It still hurt beyond words could explain to speak.

Elrond stood and nodded to the injured elf. "I will get him." He glanced at Glorfindel, whom was about to volunteer but Elrond shook his head as he stepped away from the bed. "I must do this Glorfindel. I need to tell Legolas what to expect and how to handle it. Please, go and rest. I still have much that I need to do after I speak with Legolas. You have not yet rested since returning from the battlefield."

"I will rest as long as it takes for you to speak with Legolas. I was ordered by Gil-galad to do what I could to help, and until he relieves me of that duty I intend on helping you with the other wounded that still need your attention. You have been working tirelessly since the dragonfire was spread on the battlefield. You need the aid. And I will not hear of any arguments or complaints."

Both knew it would be pointless in arguing with Glorfindel, so Elrond just offered a smile in silent thanks and nodded. Returning the gesture, Glorfindel gripped Elrond's shoulder. "Do not blame yourself for those wounds. You did all you could to save him. He is alive at this moment due to your efforts. Take heart in that." With that said, Glorfindel turned and began walking out of the tent. He would sit down not far from the tent and watch Elrond while resting his weary legs and back for a moment.

Watching Glorfindel, Elrond prepared himself to speak with Legolas. He turned around and stepped out of the tent, and was met with the young elf standing not three feet from him. It was obvious he had been weeping but he was trying to keep himself composed now as he stood before Elrond. "I have done all that I can for him." Elrond began.

"I want to see him." Legolas stated flatly. If Elrond was done, he wanted, -no, _needed_ \- to see his father.

Nodding in understanding, Elrond sighed and took Legolas by the shoulder, leading him a few feet further away from the tent where the young elf's father lay. "And you will, but I must warn you first. The damage done by the dragonfire is extensive, Legolas. Your father has been scarred by that fell beast. He has lost the sight in his left eye, and he will never fully mend."

Legolas felt as if his world was spinning. Blinded in one eye? Scarred? Unable to fully recover from these wounds? Short of his father either being alive or having passed into the Halls of Mandos, this was not the news Legolas had been preparing himself for. Elrond could see the younger elf was about to drop where he stood at the news, and he sat Legolas down before he fell and caused hurt to himself.

Kneeling in front of Legolas, the raven haired elf gripped Legolas' hands in his own and looked him in the eyes. "Listen to me Legolas. I will not lie to you. He may yet still die. He needs your strength and love to remind him why he must stay living. I will let you go and sit with him, but you must not touch his left side. Understood?" He searched the younger elf's face for any signs he should not yet let him see his father, but saw only determination.

" _Henion_ , Elrond. _Iesten_ , let me see my father." He looked down at Elrond, silently begging to see his father.

Knowing that Legolas understood the full weight of the situation, Elrond stood and helped Legolas to his feet as well. He motioned toward the tent with a wave of his hand. "There is a chair you may use already in there. Legolas," He warned as the elf was moving around him to enter the tent. When Legolas paused and looked over his shoulder, Elrond said, "Steel yourself for what you are about to see. It will not help your father to see you dismayed at how bad the wounds appear."

" _Le hannon_." Was all Legolas said before entering the tent, leaving Elrond alone.

Glorfindel seemed to appear out of no where as he stepped up beside Elrond. "Will he be all right?" He asked, glancing at the half-elf healer. Which 'he' Glorfindel was referring to did not seem to matter, because Glorfindel and Elrond were both concerned for the welfare of both father and son.

"I do not know, _mellon nín_. I do not know." Was all Elrond could say in return.

Inside the tent, the strong scent of burned hair and flesh, athelas and aloe vera leaves, and death was ripe. It made Legolas' stomach flip, knowing the smell was surrounding his father. Swallowing hard, he slowly and quietly approached the bed where his father lay still on his right side. Keen elven eyes were not needed to see the spasms that continued even now to wrack the elf with pain.

And keen elven ears were not needed to hear the sharp intake of breath or hiss of pain each time a spasm occurred.

Legolas stood and stared at his father's back, realizing with dismay how the natural glow all elves give off was so dimmed in comparison to how it normally looked. In fact Legolas could hardly see his father's natural glow. His heart sank with the implications as to what that meant. " _Ada_..." He whispered, and the jerk of the body on bed before him said that his father was alert.

He quickly circled the bed until he was brought to see his father's face, and his heart leapt into his throat at the sight. A cloth lay over the left half of his face, covering every bit of it, but the seeping wound underneath showed through, the disfiguring shapes beneath the cloth clear as day as said cloth soaked up the fluids that seeped through from the melted away skin.

He tried not to look solely at his father's wounds, though he could not stop himself from glancing down the length of his father's body. Though Elrond and Glorfindel had worked quickly, they had wrapped the wounds skillfully with deft hands. He reminded himself he would be forever in their debt if his father survived.

Turning his gaze onto his father's face once more, he met the older elf's eyes. Or rather, eye, as his left eye was covered by the cloth. He pulled the chair up as close as he dared and sat down, taking his father's right hand between his own. " _Ada_... It is me. It is your Greenleaf." He whispered softly.

For a moment it looked as if Thranduil did not recognize him as he stared at his son. His eye was unfocused at first, like he was looking but not seeing, but his eye sharpened at the sound of Legolas' voice and he looked at his son and truly seen him now. " _Ion nín_..." He squeezed Legolas' hand, silently thankful for the contact.

Relief that his father recognized him and was indeed awake and alive, Legolas breathed a heavy sigh and nodded. Reaching with one of his hands he began to stroke his father's white golden hair, much like Elrond and Glorfindel had done, and kept a firm hold on his father's hand with his other. "I am here, _Ada_. I came as soon as I received word from Gil-galad." He said, doing all he could to keep the raw emotions he felt out of his voice.

It was not truly working.

" _Guren linna a chened le_ , Legolas. But I fear I may not survive this.. I am...so very weary." Thranduil's voice sounded far away, and his eye began to get unfocused again.

It was obvious to Legolas his father was struggling to stay awake. " _Ada_ , you must rest. You cannot heal if you do not rest." He said, not wanting to see his father in pain anymore. If he rested, his elven healing ability could begin to mend his body, and he would be relieved of pain for a little while.

The older elf's eye sharpened again and he focused on his son. It took a lot for Thranduil to admit to having fear, but he feared if he fell into a sleep, even a healing sleep, he would never again wake back up. Not when he knew of the ruin the dragonfire had left his body in. His mind would flee from this ruined body, and with it his very spirit to leave his body to die.

Looking at Legolas, whom had not taken his eyes off his father, Thranduil tightened his grip on his son's hand. "I fear I cannot sleep. If I fall into that oblivion, I may not be able to return to you, _ion nín_..."

A look of fear flashed across Legolas' face. He quickly shook his head and took his father's hand into both of his again, squeezing the older elf's hand firmly. "You would not leave me alone, would you _Ada?_ I know you can survive this. You are so much stronger than many other Eldar I know."

" _Goheno nin, ion nín_...but I do not know if I can summon the strength needed of me this time." Thranduil wanted to close his eyes and rest them, but knew the darkness would swallow him if he did, so he forced them to stay open, even as he could not focus on Legolas' face just mere inches from his own anymore.

Legolas was squeezing his father's hand so tightly, his own knuckles began to whiten from the strain like they had earlier. "I cannot bear to face this evil without you, _Ada_. I am not yet strong enough to do so without your strength to guide me." He looked at Thranduil, silently begging the older elf to stay with him. "If you leave me now, I will follow you to the Halls of Mandos."

Thranduil looked alarmed, but before he could say a word Legolas continued. "I am not afraid of death, _Ada_. I am afraid of living an eternity alone. I could pass in peace, knowing that you, and _Naneth_ , and all our fallen kin are there waiting for me. We would be away from this evil at last. I cannot bear this life without you in it."

Eye focused and sharp and his heart pounding in his chest, Thranduil clutched Legolas' hands in his. "You are too young to pass into the Halls of Mandos. You have not yet lived a true life. Do not say such things. _Iesten_ , my little Greenleaf."

"Then you must not succumb to these wounds!" Legolas said sharply, a tone that most would have thought was that of his father's. His voice softened as he then said, " _Iesten, Ada... Le melin_. Do not leave me." He leaned over, pulling his father's hand up to his face and leaning his cheek against it as he let his eyes slip closed.

Thranduil stared at Legolas for several moments, not bothering to try and pull his hand back. He knew Legolas spoke the truth when he said he would die if Thranduil could not survive these wounds. "I do not know if I will wake again if I try to rest..." He admitted once more.

"If I feel you are leaving me, I will do all I can to waken you. I will stay with you as you enter the healing sleep you need to mend. I will not leave your side." Legolas said, looking at Thranduil again and squeezing his hand gently.

As painful as it was, the Sinda forced a smile to grace his face. " _Le hannon, ion nín_." He closed his eyes and sighed, and it seemed as he exhaled the last of his will and determination to stay awake left him. He had no more strength to fight the oblivion that was calling him. " _Le melin_.." Was the last thing he could manage to say before he was swallowed by the looming darkness. He trusted his son would not leave his side as he rested. Perhaps he could take light in that.

Perhaps he could find it in himself to mend from the devastating dragonfire.

Legolas' breath caught in his throat, but he felt the older elf was not leaving him. He let out his breath slowly when he still saw the movement of his father's chest. He was still alive. He would survive these wounds, Legolas was sure of it. His father was too strong, too great to be taken from Arda so soon.

Still, Legolas refused to let go of his father's hand. He would keep his word and stay put while his father rested, and wake him if he felt that he was leaving him. At this moment in time, no one else needed him more. " _Hodo vae, Ada_."

 **xoxo**

Legolas had only left his father's side when Elrond and Glorfindel were present and needed to clean the wounds again and rewrap them. When it was time, Legolas would be the first to wake Thranduil, tell him what was going to happen and let him know he would be near; always.

But he could not bring himself to be present and witness what Elrond had to do. He could not be present when his father began screaming in agony as they had to unwrap, clean, and then wrap his wounds again. It never got easier for Elrond or Glorfindel, but they knew they must do it in order to keep the Sinda alive.

And he began to mend.

Slowly, as days continued to pass, the Eldar was mending. First the more minor burns healed completely, leaving no scars. Though Elrond was happy to see this progress, he still carried a great burden on his shoulders. As many lives as Elrond managed to save from the dragonfire, many more were lost to the fell beast before Gil-galad and the men and elves of the Last Alliance managed to bring the beast down.

Gil-galad sat in the camp, nursing a wound he had received during that awful fight. Elrond had attempted to help, but he brushed the healer off as it was nothing more than a gash, and Gil-galad could well mend a simple gash. There were far more others that needed the skilled half-elf's aid.

Such as Thranduil did this moment. Gil-galad cringed at the sound of a strangled, pained cry coming from Thranduil's tent. He knew cleaning the wounds and keeping them wrapped in fresh cloth was a must, but he felt for the Sinda, having to suffer such pain just to live another day. He glanced up as he seen someone stepping out of the tent.

Legolas had attempted on a few occasions to stay, but his heart could not bear it so he quickly disappeared into the camp away from his father's pained screams. Gil-galad waved at the younger elf to get his attention. "Legolas, come here for a moment." He called, smiling slightly at the younger elf.

The woodland elf glanced at Gil-galad and he stepped over to the dark haired elf. " _Hîr nín. Manen le?_ " He asked, kneeling in front of the elven king and warrior.

"Well enough, _mellon nín. Le hannon._ But can you do me a favor? I need some athelas for this gash." As if he needed to confirm, he motioned to the gash running down his arm. He grinned ruefully at the other elf. "I do not want Elrond to be distracted from tending to your father, and he has already tried fretting over me like I am some elfling." He laughed quietly.

Legolas' smile was half hearted at best, but he tried in consideration for the older elf. "I will get some athelas for you." He stood and made his way through the camp. He purposely found a different tent with some spare athelas, knowing full well Elrond had plenty at his disposal in his father's tent. He just could not bear to look upon his ailing father in the state he was in.

Gil-galad watched Legolas leave. In truth he could have easily gotten the athelas himself, but he hoped it would help get Legolas' mind off of the sounds coming from his father's tent. He looked at the wound and picked at the cloth of his torn sleeve, peeling it away from the lesion. He had not heard the younger elf approach until the Wood-elf was again kneeling before him.

Legolas sat a bowl, some athelas, and some clean cloths down before he took ahold of Gil-galad's arm, beginning to clean the area. "Let me. You have done enough. This is the least I can do for what you have done. You saved my father. I have not yet had a chance in thanking you personally. _Le hannon, hîr nín_." He glanced at the older elf and nodded his head.

"I only did what any other would do for an ally. Your father will survive." Gil-galad motioned with his free hand around the camp. "When this war is over and Sauron is defeated, and mark my words we will defeat him, you and your father will return again to Greenwood the Great. He will be crowned king then." He looked to Legolas with a gentle smile.

" _Eryn Galen_... Long have I missed it since this war has begun. Do you truly believe we will win?" He glanced up at the dark haired elf as he began wrapping the wound once he was done applying the athelas.

Gil-galad nodded. "Indeed I do. I have faith in both elves and men. Sauron will not win. He does not have the strength that binds us as friends and comrades in arms. Light will always shine through the darkness, Legolas. Do not lose hope. _Ias i guil, mas i estel._ " He reached over and gripped Legolas' shoulder with his good hand, a smile gracing his face.

He then glanced up as Glorfindel stepped up behind them, nodding to his lieutenant then. "Legolas, we are done tending to your father's wounds. You may go and be with him. He is still awake, although not for long. He still needs to rest so that he may finish healing." He gripped Legolas' other shoulder and gave a squeeze before looking to Gil-galad.

Nodding, the younger elf stood and looked at the dark haired elf's arm. " _Le hannon_. For everything, _hîr nín_." He looked to Gil-galad, and his smile was not so forced as it had been earlier. Gil-galad's plan had worked, Legolas had put his father's pained sounds out of his mind while tending to and speaking with the other elf until Elrond had finished.

He turned and nodded to Glorfindel then made his way toward the tent as Elrond left and began making his way to the other wounded in the camp. They exchanged a nod and a weary smile as Legolas passed him.

Glorfindel turned to Gil-galad and picked up the bowl Legolas had left. "If I am not mistaken, your legs are not wounded." He raised a brow and a smirk tugged at his lips.

"Hmm?" He grinned a bit and Glorfindel just rolled his eyes at the dark haired elf. They both shared a smile, knowing what Gil-galad had done for the young Wood-elf.

TBC

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A/N: Whoop! I'm still pretty proud about this story, as short as it is. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, so don't forget to leave a little review. Reviews = Happy encouragement. ;)

 **If my Sindarin is wrong, do not be rude about it. Please either politely correct me, or kindly tell me what does not exist and I will replace it with English/edit the scene. Thanks**

• _Mellon nín:_ "My friend"

• _Goheno nin:_ "Forgive me"

• _Mellon:_ "Friend"

• _Le hannon:_ "Thank you"

• _Henion:_ "I understand"

• _Iesten:_ "Please"

• _Ada:_ "Dad/Daddy"

• _Ion nín:_ "My son"

• _Guren linna a chened le:_ "My heart sings to see you"

• _Naneth:_ "Mother"

• _Le melin:_ "I love you"

• _Hodo vae:_ "Rest well"

• _Hîr nín:_ "My lord"

• _Manen le?:_ "How are you?"

• _Eryn Galen:_ "Greenwood the Great"

• _Ias i guil, mas i estel:_ "While there's life there's hope"


	3. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or any characters associated with them; They belong to their rightful owner J.R.R. Tolkien. We just borrow them to play.  
My Elvish sucks. Tolkien forgive me. *sobs*

A/N: This was so meant to be updated last month... Sorry about the delay, time just got away from me. But here's the epilogue to wrap things up and let you all know about Thranduil's fate. Remember, this is short, sorry I couldn't come up with any better epilogue than this.

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 **Epilogue**

In S.A. 3441, Sauron was defeated. Gil-galad had been among those that had felled him, but he too, along with many others, died in the War of the Last Alliance. But he had spoken the truth to the young Legolas, and they had won. Sauron was defeated. And Thranduil, Legolas, and the remaining of their people returned at last to Greenwood the Great.

The trees sang the most beautiful songs that day, songs that would forever be cherished by the young Wood-elf and all those that had fought and survived in the War of the Last Alliance.

Thranduil's wounds, for the most part, had indeed healed. Elrond's skills had both saved the Sinda's life and saved him from his entire body scarring. A few burn scars littered the left half of his ribcage and around his collarbone, but they were light in comparison to the wound inflicted to his face.

That wound, as everyone feared, had not mended beyond the exposed flesh closing. The scar was horribly disfiguring, and it caused a deep anger to boil deep inside Thranduil. He loathed it, loathed how his once beautiful face was now left in ruins. For a long time after they returned, he did not leave his bedchambers.

Legolas had grown increasingly worried for his father, as the older elf refused to see him. He went days, weeks without seeing his father after they returned. He knocked on his father's door every day, asking to see him. Each time he was refused, and each time Legolas would simply tell his father he loved him before walking away.

After weeks of being secluded inside his bedchambers, the Sinda stepped out of his chambers for the first time since returning from the war as Legolas was about to knock for the day. The younger elf was shocked to see the face he had remembered from before the dragonfire had spread on the battlefield. Flawless, beautiful, both his eyes a deep, blue-grey shade that shined with a sharpness known only to the Eldar.

It had taken Legolas by surprise, but his father revealed it was sadly only a concealment spell he had been perfecting until then. Even the light scars across his ribs and collarbone were seemingly gone, his flawless skin once more without imperfections. It was only a mask, but it lightened Legolas' heart to see his father as he once was.

No one at all dared mention the king's old scars. It was as if they never existed to begin with, and only those present of the time it happened now knew of it's existence, so close was the secret kept.

Still, Thranduil knew. He always knew better than anyone. He stood in his bathroom today, many years later, peering at himself in the mirror with a sneer on his face as he looked at the horrible scar left by dragonfire so many years earlier. He would let the concealing magic down once in a while to remind himself. And his anger never faded.

He was now known quite well for his ill temperament.

As he tilted his head to the side, he ran his fingers along what little skin remained over the left half of his face. Frustrated, he grabbed the nearest thing to him -an elaborately decorated goblet- and tossed it. The goblet bounced onto the floor with a clatter and he turned away from the mirror, taking in a deep breath. A knock at his bedchamber door made him jerk his head toward his bathroom entrance. "Who is it?!" He yelled, fists clenching. He was in no mood to entertain guests.

"It is me, _Adar_." Legolas called from the other side.

His face softening, he turned away from the entrance of his bathroom and pulled a robe on to cover himself. " _Minno, ion nín._ "He said, a little more forgiving on being so harsh with his son than he would have been had it been anyone else.

Legolas made his way into the room, closing the door behind himself and glancing around. He then went to the bathroom, and he was not surprised to see his father with his back to him. "Look at me?" He asked, reaching out and placing his hand on his father's shoulder. " _Ada, iesten_."

Sighing, Thranduil turned and met his son's gaze. The scar was not concealed. It still hurt Legolas to see his father's ruined face, but he would not look away. He loved his father regardless of what injuries or scars he had, even one so disfiguring as this one. He reached up with his free hand and ran his long fingers along Thranduil's right cheek. " _Le melin, Ada_."

Legolas was the only person in all of Arda Thranduil allowed to see his true face. And Legolas never made him regret surviving these wounds. He was here today because of his son, and he would continue to live for his son and people.

He reached up and gripped Legolas' hand in his own. "You did not come here simply to tell me you love me." He said, and in an instant his face was flawless again as the scar was again concealed with his magic. Legolas' expression did not change in the least at the difference, and Thranduil's mood lightened a little at that.

Pulling his hand free, Legolas nodded. "You are right. I came to inform you I will be leaving with Tauriel and a number of our warriors to hunt. Spiders have nested near."

"I ordered Tauriel to destroy the nests near my kingdom not two moons past. Did she not?" His sharp eyes narrowed in anger as his temper flared back to life.

Legolas nodded. "She did, _Adar_. But I am told it needs destroyed again. I am going with her this time and will make sure all the foul creatures and their nest near the palace are destroyed. It will be done." He bowed his head and then turned to leave.

"Legolas," Thranduil called his son, making the younger elf pause and glance over his shoulder at his father. "Be careful, _ion nín_." His gaze softened at his son. Legolas had grown to be a fierce warrior after the war, but it did not serve to ease Thranduil's heart on his son's well being when he was out hunting.

"Am I not always?" Legolas replied with a smirk, glancing at his father before he left his bedchambers to leave with Tauriel and the other Mirkwood warriors to hunt for spiders.

But Thranduil still worried. And he knew of something coming. Whispers had reached his keen ears of a quest. He had a feeling that dragonfire would once again spread afar, if this quest did not succeed. He would wait, and see how it would turn out, though. But his scar seemed to burn with the memory, and he knew what dragonfire could wrought.

Thorin and Company did not know what they were getting themselves into, but Thranduil knew well of the Wrath and Ruin of dragonfire.

 _ **Fin**_

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A/N: Aaaaand that's a wrap! I said the final chapter/epilogue was short, and I know I could have just added it to the end of the last chapter, but I still wanted to separate it from the second half of the story. Thanks for reading, hope you all enjoyed! Drop a review to give me your thoughts, constructive criticism is welcomed. :)

 **If my Sindarin is wrong, do not be rude about it. Please either politely correct me, or kindly tell me what does not exist and I will replace it with English/edit the scene. Thanks**

• _Adar:_ "Father"

• _Minno:_ "Come in/Enter"

• _Ion nín:_ "My son"

• _Ada:_ "Dad/Daddy"

• _Iesten:_ "Please"

• _Le melin:_ "I love you"


End file.
